The Training of Toby (Masters of the Mansion Book 2) by Suzanne Steele Page A
Authors: Suzanne Steele
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signature one fingered manner.
“It’s perfectly normal to be nervous about meeting new people. This is your coming out to the community. I will tell you this, love; you’re safe with me. I will have you leashed and collared during the whole process. Just think of this as a gathering. It’s a party, just a kinky party. No one is going to bother you while you’re on my leash. I can assure you of that.”
“Are people scared of you,” he asked with genuine curiosity.
She chuckled as she answered, “I believe respect would be a more appropriate description.” She eyed him seriously as she made her next statement. “I know you have mixed feelings about Master William but you need to understand there is safety in submission. Let me give you an example… because I am his property, he would do anything to protect me. Now it goes even deeper than that. Because you are my property, you fall under that protection as well.”
“But he hates me,” Toby answered.
“He doesn’t hate you. There may be some jealousy towards you on his part but he doesn’t hate you. BDSM isn’t about love or hate like vanilla relationships are. Our bonds go much deeper than that, pet. We’re not just bound to each other emotionally. We are bound mentally, physically, and even psychologically as well as emotionally. You see, because he owns me, you fall under his watchful eye as well as mine. Even though he thinks I coddle you, because he knows I care for you, he’ll protect you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My Master loves me and he will do anything to ensure I stay here. He knows I’ll stay for you. Whether you like it or not, you are as bound to my Master as I am.
“BDSM is a complex and very intricate lifestyle. It has to be handled with the utmost of care. You’re not only dealing with people’s physical wellbeing, but their emotional and psychological wellbeing too. It’s why there are so many rules and so much protocol. The lifestyle, in the hands of the wrong person, is nothing shy of dangerous.
Chapter Seventeen
The Killer
Though the Internet contained a plethora of potential victims for a killer, there was a place that provided even more—the strip. The area, known by the Louisville, Kentucky residents as the strip , was located on 7 th St. and it had mile after mile of strip clubs and hookers. Though picking up a girl off the street and getting her into his car would be no real challenge, he was in the mood for one. In his mind, it didn’t matter if the victim who met their demise was male or female. No, it was all about the blood. The only reason he had become so fixated on Toby was because of the boy’s innocence. He wanted to protect him from the vile things that happened on the streets.
Though he was a hunter by nature and was inclined to bouts of stalking, he didn’t fit the profile of a stalker. He did, however, fit the profile of a sexual deviant and he most certainly fit the profile of a serial killer.
He enjoyed the hunt. Well, he enjoyed hunting humans. For a while, he’d even tossed around the idea of releasing a captive and hunting them down for the final kill but had determined it was much more productive to have a victim tied to a slab and slowly work them over. Still, visions of cutting a victim loose in the deep woods at dusk did tempt him sometimes. The only thing that stopped him was the probability of them getting away. To a man who craved the scent of death like he did, there would be no greater torment than to have a victim so close to the final kill and then losing him. No, he needed the security of knowing his victim would follow through by offering their blood on the altar of his metal slab.
He purposely pulled into one of the seedier establishments. The higher end strip clubs tended to keep a closer eye on the dancers and their outside activities. Security, in the form of professional bouncers and surveillance in the clubs and parking lots, was common. It was always much easier
“It’s perfectly normal to be nervous about meeting new people. This is your coming out to the community. I will tell you this, love; you’re safe with me. I will have you leashed and collared during the whole process. Just think of this as a gathering. It’s a party, just a kinky party. No one is going to bother you while you’re on my leash. I can assure you of that.”
“Are people scared of you,” he asked with genuine curiosity.
She chuckled as she answered, “I believe respect would be a more appropriate description.” She eyed him seriously as she made her next statement. “I know you have mixed feelings about Master William but you need to understand there is safety in submission. Let me give you an example… because I am his property, he would do anything to protect me. Now it goes even deeper than that. Because you are my property, you fall under that protection as well.”
“But he hates me,” Toby answered.
“He doesn’t hate you. There may be some jealousy towards you on his part but he doesn’t hate you. BDSM isn’t about love or hate like vanilla relationships are. Our bonds go much deeper than that, pet. We’re not just bound to each other emotionally. We are bound mentally, physically, and even psychologically as well as emotionally. You see, because he owns me, you fall under his watchful eye as well as mine. Even though he thinks I coddle you, because he knows I care for you, he’ll protect you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My Master loves me and he will do anything to ensure I stay here. He knows I’ll stay for you. Whether you like it or not, you are as bound to my Master as I am.
“BDSM is a complex and very intricate lifestyle. It has to be handled with the utmost of care. You’re not only dealing with people’s physical wellbeing, but their emotional and psychological wellbeing too. It’s why there are so many rules and so much protocol. The lifestyle, in the hands of the wrong person, is nothing shy of dangerous.
Chapter Seventeen
The Killer
Though the Internet contained a plethora of potential victims for a killer, there was a place that provided even more—the strip. The area, known by the Louisville, Kentucky residents as the strip , was located on 7 th St. and it had mile after mile of strip clubs and hookers. Though picking up a girl off the street and getting her into his car would be no real challenge, he was in the mood for one. In his mind, it didn’t matter if the victim who met their demise was male or female. No, it was all about the blood. The only reason he had become so fixated on Toby was because of the boy’s innocence. He wanted to protect him from the vile things that happened on the streets.
Though he was a hunter by nature and was inclined to bouts of stalking, he didn’t fit the profile of a stalker. He did, however, fit the profile of a sexual deviant and he most certainly fit the profile of a serial killer.
He enjoyed the hunt. Well, he enjoyed hunting humans. For a while, he’d even tossed around the idea of releasing a captive and hunting them down for the final kill but had determined it was much more productive to have a victim tied to a slab and slowly work them over. Still, visions of cutting a victim loose in the deep woods at dusk did tempt him sometimes. The only thing that stopped him was the probability of them getting away. To a man who craved the scent of death like he did, there would be no greater torment than to have a victim so close to the final kill and then losing him. No, he needed the security of knowing his victim would follow through by offering their blood on the altar of his metal slab.
He purposely pulled into one of the seedier establishments. The higher end strip clubs tended to keep a closer eye on the dancers and their outside activities. Security, in the form of professional bouncers and surveillance in the clubs and parking lots, was common. It was always much easier
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